


Save What Has Been Lost; Bring Back What Once Was Mine

by JackEPeace



Category: Descendants (Disney Movies)
Genre: AU, Everyone Is Gay, F/F, Tumblr Prompts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-17
Updated: 2017-12-17
Packaged: 2019-02-15 21:36:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,187
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13039914
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JackEPeace/pseuds/JackEPeace
Summary: The Evie of this morning would have cared about the look on Carlos’ face, the way he’s looking at her like he’s the puppy she just kicked into a corner.But the Evie of this morning still had her best friend. Her Mal. And this Evie has lost her forever. So, caring about the feelings of others isn’t high on her priority list.





	Save What Has Been Lost; Bring Back What Once Was Mine

**Author's Note:**

> This story came from a prompt I got on tumblr that said: Mal was killed by Maleficent and Evie travels back in time in her younger selfs body to save her and if she does that so she can tell Mal how she feels about her before she [Mal] starts the whole love-potion-plan she wouldn't mind doing so. 
> 
> Who doesn't love time travel?? Who doesn't love Malvie?? I love both of those things so...
> 
> The title comes from "The Healing Incantation" from Tangled, which was stuck in my head as I was writing this so it seemed fitting enough.
> 
> Also I'm terrible at writing "magic spells" so...forgive me.

“Don’t touch me.” The words tear past Evie’s lips before she can think about them, before she can try to control the emotions swirling through her. Just as quickly, she wonders why it matters. Why should she bother with coddling the feelings of other people, especially now? “Don’t say a word.”

The Evie of this morning would have cared about the look on Carlos’ face, the way he’s looking at her like he’s the puppy she just kicked into a corner.

But the Evie of this morning still had her best friend. Her Mal. And this Evie has lost her forever. So, caring about the feelings of others isn’t high on her priority list.

When Evie turns to leave the chapel, Carlos doesn’t try to stop her again. His hand hangs there, motionless, the way it had been when she’s whirled around and shoved him away from her. Jay’s expression is harder to read than Carlos’ but Evie doesn’t stop to analyze it, doesn’t bother to ask how _he’s_ feeling. Instead, she turns. She runs. And they let her.

It feels wrong, somehow, to leave it all behind. To leave _Mal_ behind, even though there’s no Mal to go back to. Not anymore. It seems wrong though to leave her there…with the strangers…the people who somehow made all of this happen. Who, in the very least, couldn’t save her.

Evie’s feet take her back to Auradon Prep, which is a relief considering the fact that her brain is too wild to think straight, and her eyes are thick with tears. She can feel them in her throat, the sob threatening to break free, if only she would let it. She doesn’t dare, doesn’t want to let anyone who might be watching see her cry. Most of the people here, she knows, don’t think Mal would be worth crying for anyway.

No matter that she saved them. No matter that they are the reason for all of this.

It’s a relief when Evie finally pushes open the door to the room that this morning she had shared with Mal. She closes the door behind her, slumping against it and sliding to the ground. It’s easier, better, than going to one of the beds and crying into the impossibly soft fabric. How many times had she complimented the sheets to Mal? How many times had she waxed poetically about how comfortable and perfect and soft everything was?

How often did she waste her time with Mal talking about things so unimportant, so useless?

Evie presses her face to the fabric of her dress, relieved that the tulle is hardly soft and silky. It scratches at her damp cheeks and that somehow makes it easier.

With her eyes closed, it’s easy to replay the events of the afternoon over and over in her mind. Mal’s plan had worked effortlessly, the love potion she’d made for Ben getting her to the front of the chapel for his coronation. And the wand had been there. And the wand had freed Maleficent, who had come to claim her rightful place in Auradon, a victory won for her by her daughter.

The daughter who had refused to let Maleficent reclaim her power and position, who had refused to give her the wand.

When Evie thinks about the moment, when she replays it all in her mind, she can’t pinpoint the second it had all gone wrong. She can’t figure out what she was doing, where she was standing, what she was thinking…can’t figure out what had somehow been more important than Mal, then trying to save her.

Evie wraps her arms around herself and leans against the heavy door, ignoring the way her makeup must look -horribly smudged and hideous from the tears on her face. Why does it matter? Why does any of it matter? Instead she thinks about that moment, when Mal stood her ground, baring her teeth at Maleficent when she tried to take the wand from her. And what had Evie done?

Nothing.

There hadn’t been time…she’d been afraid…she was thinking…trying…what did any of those excuses matter? She had done nothing. And now Mal was gone.

The idea, this realization, settles in the pit of her stomach, tearing its way through her body as easily as she might tear fabric between her hands. The damage equally as unmendable. Mal is gone. And she has nothing.

Evie falls asleep without her permission and when she wakes up it’s to someone knocking on the door that she’s still slumped against. For a brief moment, she forgets all of it -why she’s on the floor in the first place, why her face is dry and tight, why she feels like there’s such a hole in the center of her chest.

All too soon, she remembers everything. Her eyes settle on the empty bed across from her, the sheets still rumpled from where Mal had woken up that morning and refused to bother with making the bed back up.

Evie tries to swallow around the tightness in her throat, the sob still attempting to claw its way free. The pounding on the door continues as Evie forces herself to feet, swiping angrily at her cheeks and eyes. It doesn’t make a difference, of course; the damage to her makeup has already been done. It doesn’t matter. Nothing matters.

When Evie pulls open the door and sees Ben standing on the other side, she has to stamp down the immediate impulse to get her hands around him and tear him apart. What happened to Mal…all of this is his fault.

“What do you want?” Evie asks flatly, crossing her arms over her chest.

Ben looks exhausted, weary and wary, his shoulders slumped. “I thought we could talk.”

“I don’t have anything to say to you,” Evie tells him. “Go away.”

Ben sighs, shaking his head. “I know you loved Mal,” he says and the words make Evie’s body tense, her muscles growing tight, the hole in her chest tearing itself larger, “she was your best friend.”

Somehow the words do little to help her relax.

Not that Ben notices. “I can’t help but feel like all of this is my fault and-”

“It is,” Evie assures him quickly and Ben looks up at her like she’d just slapped him across the face. He looks so genuinely surprised that Evie can’t help but bark out a laugh, shaking her head. “Oh…you…you came here because you thought I was going to make you _feel_ better?”

Evie laughs again and Ben doesn’t bother to deny her words. “You thought _I_ …” Evie shakes her head. “All of this _is_ your fault. You never knew Mal at all. And now she’s gone.”

Ben’s cheeks have lost their color and when he swallows, she can see the effort it takes. “Evie, I-”

“She died for you and your stupid kingdom,” Evie scoffs, shaking her head. “What a waste.”

Ben looks at her with watery eyes. “Evie-”

“I said go away.” This time, Evie doesn’t give him the chance to explain, to plead his case. She just slams the door as hard as she can, sliding the lock into place.

As far as Evie can tell, Ben doesn’t have anything else to worry about. He’s taken care of all his problems at once: Mal might be gone but so is Maleficent, killed in the same burst of magic that destroyed the wand and Mal with it. And now no one will argue for keeping the rest of the Isle kids at Auradon Prep, not the obvious proof that they’re still a threat. Ben can make things go back to the way they’d been before and life in perfect, stupid Auradon can go back to normal.

And Evie…well…she doesn’t think she can ever go back to normal. Not unless she could actually go back in time and stop Mal from doing something so stupid.

Evie stumbles away from the door, her dress twisting around her ankles and tripping her, sending her staggering into the chair in front of her sewing machine. With a growl of frustration, she kicks it out of her way and it rattles, satisfyingly, against the bedframe. Despite the lack of effort, she’s breathing heavily, her chest heaving, her hands clinched into fists.

Evie grabs the fabric piled on the table, tearing it into pieces, teeth bared, heart pounding. She flips the table and it makes her feel better to hear the solid sound of the sewing machine cracking against the ground. She rips the canopies off the beds, adding them to the growing pile of debris on the ground.

Without thinking, Evie grabs the nightstand beside Mal’s bed and sends it crashing to the ground. That’s when something catches her eye. Something small and unobtrusive, leaning against the wall where it must have been wedged between the nightstand and the brick.

Mal’s spell book.

Evie reaches for it without thinking, curling her fingers around the worn leather of the cover, her thumb pressed against the spine the way that Mal’s had done time and time again. It seems cruel to still have something that had been so much a part of Mal when she doesn’t have Mal with her anymore.

If she had another chance, Evie knows that she would do everything differently. She would tell Mal that getting the wand and delivering it to her mother didn’t matter. She would tell her that the citizens of Auradon and their stupid little lives didn’t matter. She would tell her not to bother with the love spell on Ben. Would tell her that she…that she…

She would tell her everything. Not that it matters, because there is not no such thing as a second chance…no such thing as…

Evie’s ears start to ring as she looks down at the book in her hands. The spell book.

Magic. There’s plenty of it on Auradon. And what better use of it then to figure out how to go back and fix all of this?

There’s evidence that several pages have been torn out of the book; some of the pages have been folded over, a few stuck haphazardly in where they don’t belong. There’s one page, taped back into place, that has exactly what Evie has been hoping to find. A spell for how to make things right.

The ingredients are simple, easy to find. Not that it matters. Evie would have done whatever the book had asked of her; eye of newt, blood of prince, none of it would have mattered. But Auradon can sleep easy tonight because she knows she can get everything she needs in Merlin’s classroom on the second floor.

Evie takes the ingredients and spell book down to the kitchen, trying not to think of the last time she had been there, how all four of them had been together. How she had been with Mal. How it had felt to have Mal put an arm around her waist, how it had sounded when Mal had praised her.

The kitchen is a different place here, now, alone.

Evie focuses only on the spell, on doing everything exactly right. She can’t afford a single error, even the tiniest one. In the pot, the liquid is simmering, bubbling, tendrils of smoke slipping over the lip of the cast iron pot. The directions in the book tell her that she simply has to drink the potion, recite the words, visualize where she wants to return to.

According to the book, once the spell took effect, she would only have a limited amount of time in the past to change the future. _Results not guaranteed_ , the book notes in cramped handwriting, _use at your own risk_. She would have to do her best, to use whatever time she had in the past and hope that it would be enough to ensure that she changed the future forever. 

The potion looks far from appetizing. It smells like the wharfs down by Uma’s territory back on the Isle and looks about as appealing as anything served down there. But still, Evie scoops the contents of the pot into a mug, holding it tightly in her hands. She can feel herself vibrating with anticipation, can feel the same humming coming from the potion in her hands. The promise that something will happen.

That she can make all of this right.

She has the say the spell, visualize the moment, drink the potion. Evie knows she would do all that and more to get Mal back.

“Set right the wrongs; undo the lock,” Evie whispers, swallowing, “bring back what belongs; turn back the clock.”

Evie closes her eyes. She imagines Mal, the last moment they had spent here, how it had been to be together. She tips her head back and she drinks the potion in her hands.

When Evie opens her eyes again, she finds herself still in the kitchen. She doesn’t feel any different, aside from the sour taste in her mouth and the overwhelming feeling that she’s about to throw up everywhere. She closes her eyes, trying to push the feeling down, though it’s not as easy to banish the prickling sensation of disappointment that’s creeping up her spine.

The potion didn’t work. She didn’t go back. Nothing has changed. She hasn’t been able to save-

“Evie?”

Mal.

Evie’s eyes fly open again and she whirls around, knocking a tower of bowls to the ground.  Mal is standing there beside her, eyebrows pinched together in a look of confusion, the spell book open on the stainless-steel table between them. Jay and Carlos are sitting where they were only days before, perched on the counters of the kitchen, watching Mal do all the hard work.

Evie feels tears prick her eyes and that tightness is back in her throat. “Mal,” she croaks.

Mal’s expression of confusion turns to one of concern. “E? What’s the matter?”

A part of Evie knows that she needs to play all this off, that she’s the only one who has any sort of memory of what happened at the coronation. But she can’t. She can’t look at Mal and pretend like everything is normal.

Instead, Evie throws her arms around Mal, pulling her close. “Mal,” she says again, holding her tightly, her face pressed against her hair. “You’re okay.”

Mal pats her shoulder carefully, trying to slowly disentangle herself from Evie’s grip. “Uh, yeah, E, I’m fine,” she says, pressing her hand to Evie’s forehead. “Are _you_ okay?”

Evie takes a breath, letting it out slowly through her teeth. “Yeah, yes, I am. Now,” she assures Mal. “I just…I think…”

Only moments ago, it had seemed so easy to make the promise to herself that she would tell Mal everything. That she would not only save her life but also tell her…tell her…

Instead, Evie whirls around suddenly, slapping the bowl that Mal had been using to mix the love potion onto the floor. “Evie!” Mal jumps in time to the sound of the bowl clattering on the floor. “What is wrong with you! We don’t have enough to make more batter.”

“I don’t think this is a good idea,” Evie says quickly, turning back to face Mal. Now that the spell had worked, she has no idea how much time she was guaranteed. How much time she has to convince Mal to give up this ridiculous plan and stop putting herself in danger for the sake of her mother. “Don’t make the love potion.”

Mal glances over her shoulder, looking at Jay and Carlos. They both shrug in unison, their expressions of confusion mirroring the one that Mal has on her face. “O…kay.” Mal reaches for Evie’s hands. “Ten seconds ago you were totally behind this plan to use the love spell on Ben so we could get the wand at the coronation.”

Evie shakes her head. “I know, I know, but just…just listen,” she persists. “This is a terrible idea and something awful will happen if you…” She swallows, thinking. None of this will help if she turns into a rambling mess and can’t convince Mal to change her mind.

That feeling of nausea is already creeping back, dulling the edges of her senses and making her stomach turn. Evie can feel herself slipping away, can feel this moment becoming nothing more than a memory once more.

Evie tightens her grip on Mal’s hands. “Please, trust me, Mal,” she begs. “You don’t have to do this. Not for your mother. You don’t have to listen to her. You don’t have to put yourself in danger for her or for anyone. Please, just…you don’t have to be the person she wants you to be.”

Mal’s expression is unreadable, her brow furrowed, her eyes stormy. “Evie, what are you talking about?” She tugs her closer, insistent. “You aren’t making any sense.”

“I know, I’m sorry,” Evie says quickly with a shake of her head. She exhales, the breath puffing out her cheeks. “I should have known I would screw this up.”

She had once again. She _actually_ did it. She had the chance to see Mal again, to save her, and she can’t even do that right.

“Screw _what_ up?” Mal presses, her eyes searching Evie’s face. “E, just tell me what’s going on. What are you talking about?”

“Please trust me, Mal,” Evie says. “Don’t make the love potion. Just…we don’t need to get the wand, okay? I don’t want to lose you.”

Mal’s eyebrows lift. “Lose me? Evie, you aren’t going to lose me-”

Everything after that is lost to the ringing in her ears. Mal’s face fades into nothing more than a pinprick, the edges of Evie’s vision growing grey and dull until everything disappears all together. She can’t feel Mal’s hands in hers, can’t hear her, can’t see her.

She’s lost Mal all over again.

Evie’s eyes snap open on their own volition and she finds herself staring up at the kitchen ceiling.

She’s really getting tired of this place.

Slowly, Evie eases herself into a sitting position, pressing her hand to her forehead. The mug that she’d filled with the potion is lying beside her, on its side, wisps of smoke still escaping from the top. Her head is pounding, and as Evie slowly pulls herself to her feet, the room starts spinning. That, coupled with a look at the remnants of the potion in the bottom of the pot on the stove makes Evie turn her head toward the sink and throw up what’s left of the potion and her breakfast.

Evie feels only marginally better once she’s stopped puking. She washes her mouth out with water from the sink, closing her eyes and exhaling through her teeth. Her head still feels foggy, like her thoughts aren’t quite sturdy and stable in her mind. She can’t quite remember why she’s here in the first place…why she made the potion…why she…

Mal.

But what about her? She’s…

She’s dead. Gone.

But that’s not entirely right…she’d just seen Mal back in the dorm room…

Maleficent. The coronation.

Except the coronation had gone off without a hitch, hadn’t it? Ben had been crowned king and the wand had…nothing…

Except she had been there…she had seen Mal…had seen…

Evie opens her eyes, her tongue still thick with the taste of the potion. She had made it, used it…tried to change time…

She bursts through the kitchen doors, running in the direction of the dorm room that she and Mal share. Her mother had always cautioned her against running, assured her that beautiful women did not run, that there was no way to appear dignified if you were running all over the place.

Evie hardly cares about that now. She has more important things on her mind.

Evie throws open the door to her dorm room. Everything is as it should be, not a single thing amiss. Not like it had been after she’d attempted to tear the place apart.

And Mal, there on her bed, sketchbook open in front of her, pencil twirling absently between her fingers. Mal’s head lifts, her expression the perfect combination of amusement and confusion. “What’s gotten into you?”

“I…” Evie swallows, trying to set right the warring thoughts in her mind. The two memories attempting to take root in her brain: one assuring her that she’s lost Mal forever, while the other offers her details of a perfectly ordinary day. “The coronation?”

Mal slips off the bed, walking toward her cautiously. “Are you feeling all right, Evie?” She asks, her tone worried. “Don’t you remember?”

“What happened?” Evie asks. “With the wand?”

“The wand?” Mal’s mouth hangs open slightly, her expression flummoxed. “The wand you told me not to bother trying to get for my mother? That wand? Evie…you were there, remember? You were right, okay? About all of it. I shouldn’t have-”

Evie exhales, slumping back against the door, her legs feeling unsteady. She had done it. The spell had worked. The coronation she remembered, the one where she had lost Mal, hadn’t happened. It was nothing more than a memory, growing fainter by the second, a what-could-have-been for another Evie and another Mal.

Mal hurries toward her, grabbing Evie before she can slide to the floor. “Evie! What’s going on? You’re starting to freak me out here.”

But Evie can only grin, shaking her head. “It’s fine,” she assures her. “You’re fine. Everything is fine.”

“Uh…okay…” Mal touches her palm to Evie’s forehead. “If you say so…”

Evie smiles up at her, suddenly exhausted. She feels like she earned it; after all, she’s lived through this day twice.

But still…something is nagging the back of her mind…something that she feels like she’s forgetting.

The other Evie in the other part of her brain remembers the words Ben had spoken to her earlier, in another life. _I know you loved Mal. She was your best friend_.

She was. She _is_.

That and more.

It’s all too easy to remember how helpless she had felt earlier, when she had thought Mal was gone from her for good, when she thought she would never have her friend back. When she thought she would never tell her…

_Tell her_ , Evie’s mind insists, stubborn and impossible to ignore. _You already got your second chance, what more invitation do you need?_

“Mal-” Evie starts but the words start to freeze in her throat. It would be easier just to keep her thoughts to herself, the way she’s been doing, the way she’s used to doing. To pretend…even though there’s a part of her growing tired of pretending.

Mal’s hand lingers lightly on the side of her face, her eyebrows still knitted together. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

Evie can only shake her head. “I should have told you sooner,” she says quietly. “You’re my best friend and…you’re more than that too.”

“What are you talking about?” Mal asks, which isn’t exactly a ringing endorsement for Evie to continue.

Even still…she had been brave enough to use the potion and attempt to change the past. Why not go all in?

“You’re more than just my best friend, Mal,” Evie says, looking into Mal’s vibrant green eyes. “You always have been.”

Mal exhales, her shoulders slumping forward. “Oh, thank god,” she mutters. “I thought you were acting weird because there was something really wrong.”

Evie winces, gnawing on her bottom lip. “Um…okay…?”

“I love you, you idiot,” Mal says with a roll of her eyes. “I thought it was pretty obvious. I thought that was also kinda why you didn’t want me to, you know, make the love spell for Ben.”

Evie rolls her eyes. “Well, yeah, duh,” she says with a shake of her head. “I didn’t want you to…wait…you said you-”

Mal kisses her then, silencing all further protests. It’s a nice distraction from the whirling thoughts in her mind.

The memory of losing Mal is slowly replaced by the memory of how Mal had looked in her dress for the coronation, how she had stood next to Evie in the chapel instead of with Ben in the front of the room. The memory of watching Mal sacrifice herself to save them all from Maleficent slips away and in its place is the feeling of Mal’s hand lightly brushing against hers as they had stood watching Ben become king.

The ripping, tearing sensation that she had felt when Mal was taken from her is steadily mended by the feeling of Mal’s lips against hers and the feeling of Mal’s hand on her waist.

Evie feels the tension and sadness slip from her body until she can’t remember it at all. Until she can’t remember a reality other than this one. A reality where it seems like the stories are true after all, where good always wins, and there’s always a happy ending for those who have earned it.             


End file.
